Board Meeting
by Mirror and Image
Summary: [Complete] The Schnee children (15,10, and 5) decide to hold a board meeting. It's as adorable and sad as it sounds.


**Board Meeting**

Mirror and Image

"Weiss! Whitley!" The oldest Shnee child rushed through the manor halls, Klein vaguely at her heels.

"Winter! You're back from school!" Weiss, ten years old, nearly leapt to her feet, happy to see her sister home after so long. Mom was hardly around anymore, always "sleeping," and Dad... well...

"Oh, good, there you are," Winter said. "Come on, let's find Whitely. We need to have a Board Meeting."

Weiss nodded quickly. "Okay, let me get the notebook."

"No time for that now," Winter said, shaking her head. "We can use scrap paper, this can't wait."

"Why? What happened?"

"Wait until we find Whitley, I don't want to say this twice if Father gets home early."

Weiss nodded, falling in step with her sister's longer strides. She threw a glance back to Klein, his eyes were red – a bad sign indeed – and the three of them moved down the double wide hallways to Whitley's room. The boy was only five, sitting at the foot of his bed surrounded by books and a large custom-made stuffed summon being used as a reading table. "Whitley!" Winter said, "It's time for a Board Meeting."

"A what?"

"A Schnee Children Board Meeting," Winter said, crouching down. "I know we haven't had one in a while but you're a Schnee child so you have to take part."

"No I don't," Whitley said, frowning and hunching over his stuffed summon. "You'll just tease me again."

"We won't, I promise," Winter said, Weiss hanging back with Klein. Why was her brother always so _difficult_? "Come on, we have to make some Schnee decisions, okay? We have to decide what's best for the family."

"But Father does that."

"That's what we have to talk about," Winter said gently, trying to coax their baby brother. "Come on."

"No..."

"Good grief," Weiss said, stomping into the room and grabbing her brother's hand. "Are you a Schnee or aren't you?" She started to drag him, pulling across the lush carpet. Whitley whined, his blue eyes wide and he started to tick up his volume. "Stop that," Weiss said, "That's unbecoming of a Schnee!"

"Don't worry, Whitley," Winter added quickly, "Here, see? We have another Board Member." She held up the stuffed summon. The boy was mollified slightly, and allowed himself to be dragged by Weiss to the main hall where he finally got on his feet. The three children and Klein moved through the halls, down the main staircase – Winter constantly looking around – and to the dance hall. Nobody used it anymore after Weiss' birthday party, and the three clamored under the piano. "Klein," Winter said, "Please, do what you can to make sure we're not interrupted."

"Of course, milady," he said, blue eyes soft before giving a polite bow. He crouched down and placed a box on the floor before standing and moving outside the hall. Whitley crawled forward and took the box, opening it to see paper and crayons and pencils. He took a few and stretched out on his stomach, started drawing. Weiss took several sheets of paper and a pencil, using her best script to take notes on this particular Board Meeting. The two girls had been doing it as long as they could remember, Weiss still had notes on their Board Meetings from when she was six – discussing how to gather "ray-ven-ooo" to buy candy and how glitter honored the Schnee family name. Their last meeting had been just over a year ago, right before Winter left for Atlas Academy – mostly it was a to-do list for Winter on how to be the greatest student the academy had ever seen. They were older, now, and Weiss was starting to realize that the time of glitter and to-do lists were changing, just as Mom was changing, just as Dad had...

"Okay," Winter said, placing both palms flat on the floor. "I call this meeting of the Schnee Children Board Meeting to order."

"Seconded," Weiss said, "Let's put it to a vote."

The sisters raised their hands. Whitley doodled.

"Motion carried," Winter said, nodding her head. "We have a lot of New Business to discuss."

"Do you need notes?" Weiss asked.

"No," Winter said, putting a hand through her white bangs. "I'm worried about even taking notes, but Board Rules are absolute." She smiled, a strained, painful thing, and Weiss knew that whatever she needed to say would be _bad_ because Winter always made a point of giving the perfect smile. "First Order of Business:" she said, "Father."

Weiss' heart sank.

"I don't wanna talk about him," Whitley said, looking up from his crayons. "He yells a lot."

"That's why we need to talk about him," Winter said firmly. "I learned some things at the academy, Headmaster – General – Ironwood had us all go on a field trip down to Mantle for first year huntress work."

"Down there?" Weiss said, appalled at the idea. "But aren't they all slum lords and faunus terrorists?"

Winter stared down her sister, eyes hard. Even under the piano, her back was straight. "That's just it, Weiss: they aren't."

Weiss blinked, confused. "I don't get it," she said. "I don't get it, what does going down to Mantle have to do with Dad—Father?" she was still getting used to using the more formal title, still getting used to her dad _requiring_ the formal title.

"Look, it's a long story," Winter said, "And like I said, there's a lot of New Business, but it all boils down to this: we have to talk about your birthday party. What Father said."

Weiss shook her head. "He didn't mean it," she said, hunching forward. "He just... It's really stressful running the company, and he always pulls those late nights, we all know that; and those stupid faunus make everything harder. He was tired, that's all."

Winter nodded, eyes intense. "Yes, Weiss, he _was_ tired. And that made him _honest_."

Weiss shook her head. Whitely kept drawing.

"I... I move to discuss other business!" Weiss said quickly, turning to her brother and silently demanding he second the motion. He looked up, eyes wide and confused, but pulled his stuffed summon over his back like a blanket and grabbed a new crayon. Useless brother!

"Weiss," Winter said, leaning even further forward, her eyes so very intense. "Weiss, we can't pretend it didn't happen. We can't pretend he didn't say that, and we can't make up excuses for it. Look at Mother: she's acting like she believes it."

"No she's no—"

"_Yes she is_," Winter hissed, running a hand through her pale hair. "You're old enough to know she's not 'sleeping.' You've seen how much wine she drinks at dinner. General Ironwood said that isn't normal, and that we should be worried."

"Wait, you _told_—"

"Yes I did," Winter said before Weiss could finish, straightening again. "He needed to know everything when I told him I was joining the military."

"Wait, you _what?_" Weiss demanded, pulling up to her knees before her head banged against the piano. Pain throbbed through her head and she clattered back to sitting, grunting as the sound of the impact echoed through the dance hall. Everyone froze, silently waiting to see if they were caught. The pain faded slowly, her face hot with equal parts embarrassment, fear, and pain. She looked up, saw Whitley watching from under his toy, quiet, and Winter had scooted closer.

"Weiss," Winter said, reaching out and touching her shoulder. She took a deep breath, ran a hand through her bangs again. "Weiss," she repeated. "I can't explain what it was like at Atlas Academy. There wasn't... I didn't have a hundred rules to follow. Some of the students were from Vacuo, and Mistral, and Vale, and none of them had any fear to follow orders. Some of them _loved_ breaking rules."

"That makes them stupid," Whitley said. "Breaking rules are bad. You get punished."

"Yes," Winter said softly, still holding Weiss' gaze, silently begging her to understand. "They did get punished, but not the way we're punished." She looked away, leaning back. "Detention or essays, that's what they would get. They didn't have their inheritance held over their head, they weren't threatened with being removed from the family, they could even get away with breaking rules, sometimes."

Weiss was aghast. "_What_?"

"I know," Winter said. "I didn't understand it at first – why was it okay to break dress code by wearing a t-shirt instead of a collared shirt? Why was it forgivable to leave doors open when asked to leave? I thought everyone there was undisciplined, I went to General Ironwood so many times in the first semester, and all he could say was... all he could say..." Winter closed her eyes, straightening again. "All he could say was that Perfection wasn't something to be achieved, it was something to be strived for. It was okay to fall and fail, it was okay to make mistakes, because it was a chance to learn."

"That doesn't make sense," Weiss said, "Then why do _we_ have to be perfect? Why does Father get so mad so quickly when we do something wrong?"

"The general didn't know," Winter said, putting her other hand on Weiss'. "But he said that being that Perfect can be stifling. And... and he's right."

"No he's not," Whitley said, the five year old bored and back to drawing.

"Yes he is," Winter corrected. "I've done more, learned more, realized more, in the last year than the last fifteen in this house. My world... It's so much bigger now, and I don't know how I can tell you all what it's like. I don't know how I'll ever thank the general for what his school has done for me, but I do know this: Second item of New Business: I'm going to join the military."

"Winter, you can't…" Weiss said. "What about the company? You can't run the company and be a part of the military at the same time, can you?"

"No," Winder replied, one hand still on Weiss' shoulder. "I can't."

"But then what's going to happen?" Weiss pressed.

"It's very simple," her big sister said. "You're going to be the new heiress."

Weiss blinked. "... what?"

"Father won't stand for me joining the military, we all know that. He'll disown me."

"No… he wouldn't! I mean, he threatens it all the time but he'd never _actually_ do it…!"

"He would," Winter said, resolute. "He will. He'll strike me from the family, and pretend I never existed. But I don't care, Weiss, because it will mean that I'm _free_."

"But we are free…" Whitley said, looking up from his crayons. "We can go anywhere and do anything if Father says yes."

"Whitley, _shut up_," Weiss hissed, because he didn't _get_ it, he didn't understand how the house felt now, after dad, Father, had said he only married Mother for the money. There was a coldness in the house, an emptiness in the halls and a quiet that was unsettling. The idea of being _free of that_… Weiss couldn't even picture what it looked like, couldn't imagine what such a word felt like… but… if Winter wanted it…

"I'll join you," Weiss said firmly, reaching up and taking her sister's hand. "I move that I join the military, too. Whitley, second the motion."

Winter froze, blinking once, twice, before shaking her head. "No," she said. "Father won't let you, you'll have to find your own way to escape the house. Whitley will have to find his own way to escape the house - he'll shut you down every time. You have to…" Winter frowned, sitting back, touching her chin in thought. "I don't know what you'll do."

"I'll join you," Weiss said emphatically. "I'll go to Atlas Academy, join the military. Then I'll be with you."

"What about the company?" Whitley asked, finally looking up. "What about the family name? Grandfather spent his whole life making the company, we have to uphold the family name." He pulled his stuffed summon tighter over his shoulders.

"Yes we do," Winter said. "We have to uphold the _family_ name. Just how good is our name right now, do you think?"

"We're the greatest family to ever live," Whitley parroted, quoting Father. Winter shook her head.

"The general showed me," she said, "Some of the policy changes that have come about in the last decade."

"What?" Weiss and Whitley said in unison. "But we're not old enough to look at company records! There's so many more lessons on economics, profit margins, growth dynamics - we haven't even started learning about dividends and resource management-"

"I _know_," Weiss said, "But that doesn't stop that fact that Father has cut employee wages by a third - over half for faunus - deregulated safety conditions in the mines, and upped prices by almost five percent."

"Wait, he _what_?"

"The only reason the general knows any of this is because he sits on the council as head of the military. Grandfather may have built the Schnee Dust Company from scratch but Father will run it to the ground if something doesn't change. I can't be the one who does it - I can't stay in this house - can't stay with _him_ \- knowing he's only here for the money and milking what our family has done just for him."

Whitley starred, eyes wide. "You mean," he asked, "You're leaving us?"

"No," Winter said, turning to their smallest sibling and giving a gentle smile. "I'm not leaving you. I'm forging my own path."

"But it's away from us," he said, louder this time. "You're going to abandon us. You're leaving us alone!"

"Whitley-!"

"I'm telling Father!" he shouted, crawling out from under the piano and jogging to the exit.

"Whitley! Whitley stop!" Weiss said, crawling out after him.

"Whitley!"

A black glyph appeared, under the boy's feet, and he froze, forward momentum abruptly aborted and leaving him pinwheeling to keep balanced. Weiss turned around, surprised, to see that Winter had created the glyph, coming from under the piano and standing to her full height. "Whitley," she said, her voice low. She stepped forward, straight and confident, a military stride. "It's not your job to tell Father what I'm doing." She stared down at him, Weiss getting to her feet. Her sister's eyes softened, then, and a wistful smile crossed her features. "I'll do it myself."

Winter turned and left, the glyph in place until the door to the dance hall shut, and Whitley stumbled to the ground. "No fair!" he shouted. "No fair!"

Weiss rolled her eyes at her little brother, moving around him and going to the hall door, pulling at the handles and seeing Klein just outside, eyes brown and looking back and forth. Winter had already disappeared, the click of her boots indicating the direction she went. "Winter!" Weiss called out, afraid that her sister had decided to tell their father about her plans - that was hardly a sound business decision - Father would interfere like… like… like one of those faunus terrorists or something!

"Miss Schnee," Klein said, moving in front of her. "Please don't interfere."

"What?" Weiss demanded. "What are you talking about? Winter is about to do something stupid!"

"No, she really isn't," Klein said, Whitley coming out of the hall, face red. He stalked off in another direction as Weiss shook her head.

"Do you have any idea what she's about to do?" she demanded.

"Yes, I do," he replied, voice gentle. "I was the one who suggested the board meeting."

"Wait… what?"

"Miss Schnee has decided how she is going to carry on Master Nicholas' name," Klein said, reaching down and putting a hand on the ten-year old's shoulder. "It's not our place to tell her how to do that."

"But the best way is through the company," Weiss said.

"For you, it probably is," Klein said, smiling under his moustache. "For her, it must be something different. You'll understand as you get older, that Mr. Schnee doesn't always know the best way to honor the family name."

* * *

That night when they all got together for dinner, Winter was suspiciously absent, and Father was in a _terrible_ mood.

"I can't _believe_ Ironwood! Stealing my daughter right out from under me! I was a fool to let her attend Atlas Academy - discipline and rigor, pah! Clearly it's a breeding ground for dissension and anarchy! No _wonder_ the other nations always look down on us - even those Vacuo layabouts! I bet this is why those animals keep finding ways to ruin my transports - Ironwood has probably given orders to let those faunus bastards attack my shipments! And _now_ he ferries away my daughter. Well, he'll see! He'll have no access to the Company! That defiant little bitch will be stripped of everything - no allowance, no clearance codes, no more tutoring on taking over the business. Hell, I'd rather _disown_ her than give Ironwood that level of clout! Rat _bastard!_"

Weiss sat and endured it all, watched Whitley look at their father and drink up every word, watch Mother burn through an entire bottle of wine, hand to her forehead and slumped to the side. Weiss kept her head down, not looking at her father but unable to unhear the terrible things he was saying, threatening. And there, across the table, Winter's seat was empty, saying more than Father's two hour tirade. Weiss wasn't free to leave until Father declared dinner over, and she couldn't leave fast enough. She retreated to her room, pulled out her Board Meeting notebook, and struggled to write down the minutes of the day's terrible board meeting.

She flipped through the earlier pages, read the terrible spelling and uneven letters. "Munny is the bigest importaens," one page read. "The Schnee name is good. The Schnee name is best." "Picture is evry thing," for when their father had been on a rant about image being everything. "Silver glitter honors the company.

"How Winter will show Atlas that she's the BEST."

Their last entry before this. Weiss read the list: "Best handwriting. Best spelling. Best Semblance. Best hair. Best fighting. Best posture. Best dancer. Best drawer. Best sister."

Weiss felt sad, and she couldn't figure out why in her ten year old mind. All she understood was that Winter had decided to do something, and Father hated her now. What was Weiss supposed to do? How could she make Winter feel better? She took a deep breath through her nose and closed the minutes, going to her art table and pulling out paper. She would make a card.

With silver glitter.

It was - technically - after bedtime when she finished, but she snuck out of her room anyway: bare feet freezing on the cold floor until they touched the plush carpet, and moved down the hall. Her hands were still sticky with glue and glitter, but she could see the light still on in her sister's room, so she knelt down and slid the card under the lip of the door. She listened for several seconds, heard motion on the other side of the door, and waited.

In less than a minute her sister opened the door, and Weiss could barely process the action before she was swept into the tightest of hugs.

"I love you, too!" her sister sobbed, before dragging her into her room and closing the door. Winter was on her knees, Weiss holding herself at a weird angle to compensate. Her sister cried some more, but eventually she pulled back to look at Weiss, and that was when she saw the red mark on Winter's cheek.

"What happened?" she asked, frowning.

"Nothing," Winter said, her voice low and watery. "Nothing that matters. Come on, you're sleeping with me tonight."

Weiss nodded. "Okay…"

The two slid into bed, and Winter enveloped her sister in another hug. Winter was warm, and safe, and Weiss fell asleep feeling loved in a way she didn't feel with her parents. She nuzzled closer to the warmth, and listened to her sister cry some more.

Winter was gone the next day, back to the academy, a note on Weiss' pillow. _Weiss_, it read.

_I'm going back to the Academy. I need to get stronger. I need to learn how to be a better Schnee, and it won't be at the house. But don't worry, I'll learn everything I can. And I'll pass it on to you, so you can be free the same way I will be._

_I won't go easy on you, Weiss. I'm going to be hard on you. But I'm going to do that so you can be an even better Schnee than me._

_I love you._

_Winter_

_PS YOU'RE the best sister_.

**End**


End file.
